the pieces that make up the whole
by waywardrenegades
Summary: Five times Mike learned something about Harvey. Contains mild-slash.


_AKA. The Five Times Mike Learned Something About Harvey_

* * *

_Author's Note__**: **_**This is my first ever Suits fanfic and also my first foray into slash writing, so please be kind! **

**Disclaimer -** I don't own Suits or any of its characters**. **

* * *

_**part 1.**_

"It is! I can taste the difference, Donna!"

"You're so paranoid, Harvey. Jesus Christ. It's not, I swear."

Mike knocked on the glass door of Harvey's office and poked his head in, "Um… what's going on?"

Donna opened her mouth to reply at the exact moment Harvey cut in, his words rushed, "Donna's trying to kill me."

Mike smirked and turned to Donna, "Come on," he said, his voice adopting a fake whine. "We talked about this, not until _after_ we get our bonuses."

Donna bit her lip to hide her smile and shook her head as Harvey looked between the two of them. "I glad you both find this amusing, but if I don't get my goddamn coffee in two seconds, someone's head is going to be rolling around on the floor."

Mike looked at him with an expression of half amusement and half disbelief. "Calm your shit, Harvey. You're holding coffee."

"It's _decaf_," Harvey spat out, his face screwed up in disgust.

"No, it's not!" Donna exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation. "I learned my lesson the last time, okay?" She turned to Mike to explain, "I tried to switch him to decaf once before you started working here, and he reamed me out after he almost fell asleep in a meeting." She smirked and said, almost to herself, "Although that would have been hilarious."

"I can taste the difference!" Harvey repeated, each syllable emphasized by his indignation.

"Bullshit," Donna said with a roll of her eyes. "You could barely taste the difference between scallops and fish." Harvey opened his mouth to protest but Donna raised a finger, "If I hadn't tasted it first, Jeremy would probably be dead right now. I mean, come on, feeding your own brother shellfish…" she trailed off, a smirk on her face, a teasing lilt in her voice.

"Donna…" he began, threateningly.

"Hammy!" Donna spat out.

Harvey stepped back involuntarily, his dark eyes wide, his mouth gaping open, speechless. She smiled triumphantly, waiting for him to regain control of his brain functions. He leaned in and lowered his voice, "You swore you'd never call me that at work," he hissed.

Mike's blue eyes bounced quickly between his boss and Donna, his mouth hanging open. "Hammy?" he asked finally.

Donna laughed, "When Harvey's brother was little…" she started.

"Donna!" Harvey interrupted, glaring at her. "Shut up."

She simply rolled her eyes and waved her hand at him, "When Jeremy was little, he had a real problem pronouncing the 'v' in Harvey's name, and no one could get him to say it properly, so instead, he settled for turning it into an 'm'. He called Harvey, 'Hammy' until he was 11. No one uses it anymore but sometimes Jeremy…" she paused and laughed. "Or me, will bring it out just to piss him off."

Mike turned to look at Harvey who was studiously avoiding Mike's gaze, all of his attention focused on glaring at the side of Donna's head with enough force that, if looks really could kill, would probably ensure her death and burial. "Hammy?" he repeated, trying and failing to keep a laugh from bubbling up through his lips.

"I am going to kill you," Harvey told Donna through gritted teeth. "I'm going to kill you, and I'm going to make it look like an accident."

"When Jere was seven," Donna continued, as though Harvey hadn't spoken. "He told his class that his brother was a cannibal because he'd gone to school with a ham and cheese sandwich. An entire class of second graders were terrified of him for an full year."

Mike burst out laughing, causing him to physically double over, his hands grasping his sides as Harvey called over him, "They won't find the body!" Donna rolled her eyes, ignoring him as she watched Mike struggle to catch his breath, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

"Get out," Harvey said finally, pointing at the door. Donna smirked and winked at Mike as she left, glancing over her shoulder to see Harvey fall into his office chair and take another sip of his coffee, making a face as it went down.

Mike sunk down into the seat across from him. "So, seriously… tell me," he paused and raised his eyebrows at Harvey's confused expression. "Were you merciful to the ham or did you desecrate a whole village of pigs?"

Harvey tore his gaze away from the briefs laid out in front of him to glare at his associate, albeit, not with the same force he'd unleashed on Donna. "You get out too."

"I'm sensing a little hostility," Mike said, shooting Harvey his best imitation of the Specter smirk. "Do you need to talk about it?" he asked sarcastically as he packed up his books and stood.

"No, Oprah. I think I'm good," Harvey said. He paused and picked up a stapler, "But if you don't leave now, I will throw this at your head."

Mike held his hands up in surrender and walked out of the door to Donna's desk. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, for letting that slip," he said, leaning on the partition of her cubicle.

Donna winked, "No worries, kid."

Mike smiled and patted the top of the partition. As he moved to walk away, he heard Donna call after him, "Oh, and it _was_ decaf."

Mike paused, his back to Harvey's office. A smile spread across his face at the anticipation of what he new was coming. As if on cue, he heard a splutter and then, "I _knew_ it!"

* * *

_**part 2.**_

Mike ran a hand over his short blonde hair and straightened his posture, wincing with each pop of his vertebrae. He rubbed his eyes and stretched up, glancing at the watch on his wrist. _1:00am. _He groaned quietly, leaning back in the chair. He felt stiff everywhere, one of the hazards of sitting in the same hunched position for five straight hours.

He stood up slowly, giving himself time to adjust to being upright. He packed up his bag, hoisting the briefs that he had been proofing into his arms and let himself out of the file room. Immediately, he was hit with air that wasn't stagnant and he inhaled deeply, trying to get oxygen to his brain as fast as possible. He paused mid-step and detoured, deciding to drop the Dresden briefs off on Harvey's desk before he went home for the night. It may have seemed insignificant to anyone else, but he loved showing up to work and seeing the small, proud smile on Harvey's face.

Mike rounded the corner, his eyebrows furrowing together as he spotted a light on at the end of the hallway, illuminating that corridor outside his boss's office, the soft sounds of a jazz record floating up from under the door. His steps faltered slightly as he got closer, seeing Harvey bent over his desk, one hand clasped around a glass of whiskey, the other raked halfway through his normally perfectly sculpted hair, his dark eyes trained on the desk in front of him.

"Harvey?" he asked softly, stepping partway through the doorway.

Harvey didn't bother glancing up, but gestured him in with two fingers.

"I finished the Dresden briefs," Mike said, trailing off as his blue eyes landed on what looked like a greeting card open on his desk. "Are you okay?"

Harvey was silent for a moment before lifting his gaze up to his associate, "It's my birthday."

Mike's mouth fell open. He spent a lot of time, daily, trying to anticipate what was going to come out of Harvey's mouth, but that definitely was not one he would've seen coming.

"Happy birthday?" Mike said, confused. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Again, Harvey responded as though Mike hadn't spoken. "What were your parents like?"

Mike stared at him, not even bothering to hide his confusion. "They were… I don't know. Parents?" He paused, studying Harvey carefully as he dropped into the chair across from him. "My dad was a workaholic. He used to work so hard sometimes that he'd forget what day it was." He hesitated and clearing his throat, "We didn't really get along that well. My mom was convinced it was because we were so similar but… he was constantly on my case about 'not living up to my potential'." Mike stopped again as Harvey looked up for the first time, his dark eyes needing a moment to focus on Mike's face. Mike continued to speak, "We got in a lot of fights because of it. But my mom… my mom was the sweetest woman on the face of the Earth."

Harvey's eyes darkened as he drained the rest of his glass of whiskey down his throat in a single gulp.

"Why're you asking, Harvey?"

Without a word, Harvey pressed his hand to the card in front of him and slid it across the glass. Mike tore his gaze from Harvey reluctantly, his eyes skimming over the words in front of him.

"It's from your Mom," Mike said, puzzled.

Harvey nodded, standing to pour another fifth of whiskey into his glass. Mike watched him as he walked around his office, trailing his finger along the spines of the records on his wall. Harvey stopped in front of the big, picture window, swirled the liquid in his glass and took a deep breath, steeling himself to answer Mike's silent question.

"When I was fourteen, my mother left us. She left me, my dad, my brother, and my sister," he laughed, but it was humourless. "She's sent me a card every single year on my birthday since I graduated high school. Somehow, I'm not sure how, she found out that Jessica had taken me under her wing so she sent the first few to her, like she thought Jessica could convince me to contact her. The rest of them are all addressed to me here, at Pearson Hardman."

Mike raised an eyebrow, looking back down at the card. Suddenly the generic message, stilted inscription and phone number made sense. Harvey moved from the window to sit back down at his desk, leaning over to unlock a drawer at the bottom. He straightened back up and dropped a stack of cards on the desktop. Mike reached across, dragging the pile towards him. They dated back nearly 25 years.

"Wow," he hesitated, wondering, not only why Harvey was telling him this at all, but if he even wanted his opinion. "Have you ever tried to contact her?"

Harvey stared at him, "Absolutely not."

"Why not?" Mike asked, carefully.

"She didn't just leave us, Mike. She was never fully there in the first place. She cheated on my father their entire marriage," he paused, retreating back into his own mind. "I don't think she ever loved him. Or us."

Mike flipped through the old cards, "She says she's changed." He looked up, "Maybe she has."

Harvey scoffed, "People don't just change, Mike. They are who they are, and they stay that way."

Mike shook his head, "You don't really believe that."

Harvey raised an eyebrow, "Oh, I don't?"

"No. And you know how I know that? Because you hired me. I was a mess when we met, a screw up. Remember? Pot all over the floor?" He smiled, "But you hired me anyway, because you trusted that I would clean up my act, that I'd stop smoking pot, and work my ass off. You didn't know me, you had no indication that I could be trusted, but you did."

Harvey rolled his eyes, but didn't disagree, and Mike took that as his cue to keep speaking. "Maybe your Mom's turned it around too. You'll never know unless you give her a chance."

Mike stared at Harvey, his heart constricting as he realized that he may have crossed a line. Harvey was silent as he took the cards back, and locked them up again in the drawer. He stood up and shrugged his suit jacket back on, downing the rest of his drink.

"Good night, Mike," he said gruffly, taking a few steps towards the door. He hesitated at the threshold and turned back to look over his shoulder, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Mike nodded, watching and listening until he heard the elevator leave, taking Harvey with it. He stood up and walked to his favourite spot in Harvey's office, overlooking the city. The lights twinkled below, and he was struck again by the view. Every day, Harvey stood here with all of New York literally at his feet. It was hard to imagine that a person who had all of this would have something like this hanging over him. It was a little disconcerting, and yet, Mike found that he was glad he knew. He couldn't believe that Harvey trusted him enough to tell him, to let him in on this secret, to give him this piece of himself, no matter how small. He hoped this meant that Harvey would give him more pieces, and maybe eventually, all of him.

* * *

_**part 3.**_

Mike fell into step next to Harvey, his bright blue eyes trained on the side of Harvey's face. He could practically see the gears turning in his brain.

"It's time to start painting outside the lines," he said finally, his fingers gripping the handle of his suitcase tighter.

"Right, because the last time you started a conversation with those words went so well," Mike deadpanned. "You gonna start spewing some more bullshit about bringing the mountain to Mohammad?"

"At least you finally figured out what that meant," Harvey said, the patented Specter smirk plastered across his handsome face. He turned and pressed the call button for the elevator before turning back to face Mike.

"So is this going to be like a regular thing with us? Crossing lines?"

Harvey raised a single eyebrow and tried to ignore the pang in his stomach at the way Mike was looking at him guardedly, his blue eyes reflecting the bare outlines of distrust and disillusionment.

"Extenuating circumstances," Harvey said cautiously. Behind them, the elevator doors let out a _ping_ and slid open. Harvey stepped through the doors, Mike following closely on his heels as usual. When he spoke again, his words had a hardened edge to them, "Got it. I was wondering where we were going to be drawing that ethical line now."

Harvey rolled his eyes, glancing over at Mike as the elevator doors slid shut again, closing them off from the rest of the world.

"Seriously, Harvey," Mike tried again. "I get that Clifford Danner _was_ extenuating circumstances, but this is a merger. You hate mergers. They're boring, remember?"

"I hate losing," Harvey corrected. "And we are not going to lose this one just because this Franklin guy is a step ahead of us."

Mike looked away from him, taking a moment to process before responding. It was a personality quirk that Harvey realized he liked knowing. The boy could consume knowledge at a ridiculous speed but if anything caught him off guard, he always needed a moment to look away from the situation and work through it on his own. It never took very long, seconds at most, but it happened without fail. And Harvey noticed every single time.

"Mike…"

The name had barely left his tongue when a massive jolt sent them flying across the cart, bouncing off the walls, and gripping blindly for support to keep them upright.

"What was that?" Mike asked, forcing himself upright as soon as the elevator had stopped moving. Harvey didn't reply, moving instead to the button pad and punching the 'open' button. Mike raised an eyebrow, watching, as Harvey grew more and more irritated.

"I don't think it's working, Harvey," Mike said, not even bothering to hide the amusement in his voice.

Harvey slammed his palm against the metal siding, and turned to lean against it, letting his head fall back with a thump.

"So we're stuck," Mike said, attempting to get Harvey to break his silence and to get him out of his own head.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," he muttered, banging his head back into the wall again. He reached up with a single hand to loosen his tie as his eyes fluttered shut. He took a shaky breath and pressed himself as close to the side as he could.

"Are you okay?" Mike asked, his entertainment quickly giving way to real concern.

Harvey didn't even open his eyes as he snapped, "I'm fine."

"Harvey…"

"I said I'm fine, Mike," he barked, shrugging his suit jacket off and letting it fall to the ground. Mike's mouth dropped open as he watched Harvey's Tom Ford jacket fall onto the floor of the elevator. "Did you have a lobotomy while I was in the bathroom or something?" he said incredulously, bending down to pick the jacket up and shaking it out.

When Harvey finally opened his eyes, they had a wild look in them that reminded Mike vaguely of a caged animal. He pushed himself from the wall and began to pace, two strides propelling him across the cart. His breathing was erratic and he tugged at the collar of his shirt every few seconds. He could feel Mike's blue eyes trained on him, scrutinizing every single move he made, but he couldn't bring himself to care enough to explain, not even for Mike.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" Mike asked finally, his confusion apparent. Harvey didn't respond, continuing to pace back and forth. Suddenly, it was like a light turned on in Mike's brain and his eyes widened. "You're claustrophobic."

Harvey threw a glare over his shoulder to his associate, but refused to confirm or deny, _'Just like any good lawyer' _Mike thought, annoyed.

"You are," Mike said, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. "You're claustrophobic. Holy shit."

"You breathe a word of this to anyone and you're dead," he replied, his threat undermined by the sweat on his brow and the pure panic in his eyes.

"Harvey, it's fine. We're going to get out of here; but we have to be patient. Just… calm down."

"Calm down?" Harvey muttered incredulously. "That's your idea of being reassuring? Calm down? I thought you were supposed to be good with people."

Mike turned up his hands in confusion, "It's not like I can get us out here, Harvey. If I could, I would but…"

Harvey cut him off with a single look and shook his head, "Forget it." He stopped pacing finally, molding himself into the corner to get as much space between himself and Mike as possible. His breathing became heavy and he felt himself choking on the stale air. This had happened only once before in his life and he knew exactly how it was going to end if they didn't get out of there soon. There were few things in his life he wanted more than to avoid hyperventilating and passing out in front of his associate. Harvey screwed his eyes shut again, and tried to remember the words his doctor had told him when it had happened the first time back when he was nine years old. No matter what he thought of, or where he tried to picture himself, he could feel his breath coming faster and faster.

Without warning, Harvey felt his body slam into the side of the elevator, the bar digging into his back, two solid hands on his shoulders, hot breath on his face. He opened his eyes slowly to see Mike's blue ones staring back at him.

"Breathe," he instructed.

Harvey opened his mouth, and tried to find words, any words - tell him to back off, go to hell, that he was fired if he didn't let go – but instead all he did was take a deep, shaky breath, his gaze fixed on Mike's face.

"Breathe," he said again, his left hand sliding off Harvey's shoulder to rest just over his heart. "Jesus, you're heart is going a mile a minute. You were about to pass out," he muttered to himself. He looked up from where his fingers were splayed over his boss's chest to his face, expecting to find an angry glare or a mocking smirk. Instead, all he found were Harvey's dark eyes looking at him like he was the only thing keeping him from completely losing his shit. His dark eyes were heavily lidded and his lips were parted and dry from trying to take deep, steadying breathes, but he was slowly beginning to come down.

"Better?" Mike asked, searching Harvey's face for any indication of what he was feeling.

Silently, Harvey nodded, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, his heart pounding in his ears – for an entirely different reason this time. Mike felt something tighten in his chest and forced himself to back away, his hands falling from Harvey. He took another step back and cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing away from him. He stared studiously at the wall of the elevator, his eyebrows knit together, chewing on the inside of his cheek as Harvey continued to breathe, wondering what the hell Mike could possibly be needing to process right then.

Finally he turned back to Harvey, the confused look that had been on his face moments ago, replaced with his easy smile.

Harvey opened his mouth, to say what, he wasn't sure, but was cut off by the loud sounds of metal on metal. Their heads both snapped away from each other, to the elevator doors that had slowly begun to slide open, revealing a firefighter through the cracks.

"Hey guys," the firefighter said with a warm smile. "How 'bout we get you out of there.

"Sounds good," Mike replied, glancing back to Harvey, the relief evident on his boss's face.

Six excruciating minutes later, Mike and Harvey burst through the doors of the building and out into the sunshine and open air of New York City.

Harvey took a deep breath, his eyes closed, looking more at peace than Mike had ever seen him. He smiled, his eyes opening to see Mike staring at him unabashedly.

"What?"

"Remind me to mock you later. I mean, the great Harvey Specter can face down murderers and drug dealers but is afraid of an elevator. This is gold."

Harvey bit down on his lower lip, rolled his eyes, and grabbed his suit jacket from Mike's hands, "Glad my suffering is of good entertainment value to you," he said.

"Oh, you have no idea."

Harvey smirked at Mike, smacked his arm with his hand and began walking down the street towards Pearson Hardman. It was like nothing had happened, he looked every bit the successful lawyer and best closer in the city. A smile spread slowly across Mike's face as he sped walked to catch up. Everyone else in the city thought Harvey Specter was an illusive creature who never budged, never broke, and now, Mike was one of what he guessed was a very short list of people who knew that there was a chink in the armor Harvey wore proudly every day. By now, he knew Harvey well enough to know that he would pretend it had never happened, but it was another piece of Harvey, and Mike was going to take every one he could get.

* * *

**part 4.**

"Okay, get up."

Harvey looked up from the pile of documents spread out on the table top in front of him, "Excuse me?"

"It's eleven o'clock on a Friday night of the worst week in the history of the world. If I have to read one more document, my brain is going to start melting out of my ears. We need to get out of here."

Harvey paused, tilting his head as he considered Mike's words, "Fine. Get out of here, have a good weekend. I'll see you Monday morning."

Mike shook his head and walked over to Harvey's desk, dropping heavily into the seat across from him, "No way. I'm not leaving you here. We don't have to be back in court until Monday, we can take a break tonight. I'll even come into the office tomorrow if you want, but right now, we're going to get a drink."

He rolled his eyes, but nodded. He stood up and shrugged his jacket on, "Fine. But we're not going to a bar." He shot a smirk over his shoulder and walked out, knowing instinctively that Mike would be following close on his heels.

"Then where're we going?"

Mike walked around the cab to where Harvey stood on the curb and turned to stare at the building.

"Where the hell are we?" he asked, staring at the side of his head.

"What does it look like?" Harvey said, smirking.

"It looks like one of those cheesy, clichéd twenty-four hour diners, which, I would think, is just the kind of place you would _hate_."

Harvey let out a chuckle, and Mike realized with a start that it was the first time in over a week that he'd heard him laugh. "You're right, this is _exactly_ the kind of place I hate." He smiled at Mike and walked through the doors of the diner, pushing the glass door open with a flat palm, glancing up to the ceiling as the bells rang above his head.

"Then what're we doing here?" Mike muttered to himself as he followed him inside and over to the corner booth, sliding onto the pleather bench seat. "Harvey…" he trailed off, staring at him, confusion and disbelief written all over his face.

"What?" he asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Mike stared at him as an older woman sauntered up to their booth, "Well hey there, sugar," she said, greeting Harvey with a warm smile.

"Dolores," he said, relaxing back into his seat. "How're Charlotte and Ben?"

"They're great, of course," she said, hints of a southern drawl peppering her words. "Who's the kid?"

Harvey smiled, "This is Mike, he's my new associate." He smiled and winked at her, "Mike, this is Dolores."

The woman smiled, planting a hand on her hip, "You look like you're made of nothing but skin and bones. We need to get you fed."

Mike shook his head, "No, that's okay, really…" he protested even as Harvey was shaking his head. Mike watched the woman scribble something down on her pad of paper. "Don't bother, she'll just bring you whatever she thinks you need."

Dolores patted Harvey on his cheek, "Finally, he learns." She smiled, "Your usual?"

Harvey nodded, "Thank you." She nodded and walked away, humming under her breath. Harvey looked from her retreating form to Mike; his blue eyes staring at him, judging, his mouth hanging partially open. "What?" he asked again.

"You have a usual? In a place like this? Seriously?"

The words had no sooner left his mouth than the waitress waltzed back towards them and placed a large, frothy glass of chocolate milk with a crazy straw poking out of it, down on the table between them. She smiled and patted Harvey's hand, "I'm bringing you a grilled cheese sandwich too."

Harvey smiled as she walked away again and leaned down to take a gulp from the straw. Mike stared at him, his eyes tracking the brown liquid as it twisted and turned through the green crazy straw up to his lips. Harvey's dark eyes fluttered shut and Mike saw a look of relief flash across his features, but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared, and Mike wondered vaguely if it had just been a trick of the light.

"I don't get it," Mike muttered, resting his chin on his fists.

Harvey's eyes opened and he leaned back, smiling. "When I was younger and I was having a bad day, or if I was worried about something, my dad would always give me a big glass of chocolate milk. He did the same thing for my sister and my brother. He'd sit us all down, pour us massive mugs and stay with us until we'd finished them, until we'd talked it all out, until we felt better." He paused, searching Mike's face.

"Why're you telling me this?" Mike asked, the words coming out rushed, like he hadn't thought them through, or meant to say them at all.

Harvey shrugged, "I don't really know." He laughed, "I have no idea."

Dolores walked back up to their table and dropped a plate of pancakes, piled high and topped with strawberry compote, whipped cream, and drowning in chocolate sauce, in front of Mike. "Eat up sweetie, you need some meat on that skinny-boy frame of yours."

Harvey smirked, hiding a laugh behind his hand as Mike glanced up at her, said thank you and stared back down at the plate.

"This stack is bigger than my head," Mike hissed. "Does she really expect me to eat it?"

Harvey nodded, "And if you don't finish it, she'll remember, and the next time you come in here she'll give you rye toast and cold coffee."

"You know this from personal experience?" Mike asked, smirking.

"Maybe," Harvey admitted, trying and failing to hide a smile. He took another sip of his chocolate milk.

"You realize this is a goldmine of information, right?" Mike said, his eyes on Harvey as he dug into the stack of pancakes with the enthusiasm of a seven year old. "It's like your kryptonite."

"Kryptonite?" Harvey mocked. "Wow, you're such a nerd."

"Says the Trekkie," Mike shot back, not missing a beat.

Harvey rolled his eyes, drinking more milk to hide the smile threatening to form, as Mike shoveled pancakes into his mouth.

"So if chocolate milk is the thing that pulls you out of your… funk, when you're having a bad day. Why is your office stocked with whiskey?"

Harvey stared at him, "Because a carafe filled with milk would look weird." He paused, "Plus, I'm Harvey Specter."

Mike laughed, "Yeah, you are. Which is what makes this so amusing."

"You tell a soul, and I will deny it until the day I die," Harvey said, his eyes narrowing. His words were meant to be harsh, but his heart wasn't really in it.

Mike just shook his head and smiled, looking back down at the oozing pile of goo in front of him. He cut another piece and popped it into his mouth, taking the opportunity of having his mouth full, to think. Harvey put up this bullshit, hardass exterior. He spouted off lines about not caring, or having a reputation to uphold, or only caring about himself, but then turned around and defended Mike to Louis, or let him see him in moments less than was expected from the great Harvey Specter.

It was another piece of himself that he kept hidden from everyone else, and yet, he'd given it to Mike. He still wasn't sure why. Maybe it kept happening accidentally, maybe Harvey just didn't care enough about him to hide the parts of him that didn't fit in with his image, or maybe – and this is what Mike was hoping for – Harvey wanted Mike to see these pieces of him, wanted him to know him better.

Mike looked up at Harvey through his eyelashes. He was sucking on the straw, like only a man completely assured of himself could do, his eyes staring glassily out of the window. Mike smiled. He found that he didn't care why it seemed to keep happening, just _that_ it was happening at all.

He chewed on another piece of pancake and decided that, despite the fact that he could feel the cavities forming with each bite, this was the most enjoyable meal he'd ever had.

* * *

_**part 5.**_

Mike paused at the end of the hallway and inhaled, feeling it fill his lungs before he forced himself to take a step forward, and then another, and then another. His feet felt like lead, but there was no escaping it. He had to face Harvey some time; he had just hoped that he would be feeling a little less hung over when it happened. He hadn't gotten drunk, hadn't smoked pot, and yet, he felt like popping some aspirin, downing a gallon of water, and hiding under his covers for the rest of his life.

As if his morning couldn't get any worse, Mike spotted Rachel leaning over the wall of Donna's cubicle, a bright smile on her stunning face.

She looked up and saw Mike, leaned over to whisper something to Donna and sauntered straight up to him, "Good morning, Mr. Ross."

Mike froze, "Uh… um… good morning."

Rachel smiled affectionately, "You still need some work on that." She winked and breezed past him, leaving Mike standing shell-shocked. He turned to Donna; one look at her face told him that he knew. She nodded slightly, answering his unspoken question, "Harvey told me."

Mike moved quickly, stopping inches away from her, "I know you work for him, but he's wrong about this. If he really cared about me, he wouldn't be handing out ultimatums."

He turned to leave, not getting very far as Donna latched her vice grip onto his upper arm and hauled him into Harvey's empty office.

"Ow…" Mike protested, glaring as she steered him toward the leather couch, pushing him down until he was seated.

"Do you like this office?" she asked, looking around herself as she stood in front of him.

"Sure," Mike said cautiously, shrugging. He had no idea where she was going with this.

"Do you know how much Harvey likes this office? Harvey loves this office. But for you, he was willing to give it up." She paused, letting that information soak in.

"He's giving me his office?" Mike asked, still not understanding.

"How do you think he kept your job, fraud man? Hmm?" Donna asked, staring at him in disbelief. The kid was supposed to be smart. "Because Harvey said it was a packaged deal. She fired you, she fired him. So before you go mouthing off about him not caring about you, you think about that…"

"Wait a minute," Mike interjected, his mind reeling. "He did that for me?"

Donna tiled her head, managing to convey a very well timed _'duh'_ with just a head motion and a pointed glare. Mike shook his head, as if trying to organize the mass of swirling thoughts in his head.

He couldn't believe that Harvey would have jeopardized his own career for him. How many times had the man told him that he only cared about himself? That unless it affected him, he didn't give a shit? Within seconds, the disbelief gave way to anger. He was pissed. Pissed at Harvey, pissed that he would've had to live with the knowledge that he was the reason Harvey Specter had become the best Closer in New York City to ever be unemployed, pissed that Harvey hadn't told him any of this himself, and pissed that he couldn't be pissed at him without feeling guilty. But above all, he was angry at himself for putting Harvey in this position in the first place. He shouldn't have fought so hard for the job, he should have just let Harvey fire him that first day.

"Oy!" Donna's voice brought Mike back into the present, his thoughts fading away into the background. "Earth to Mike!"

He looked up at her, his eyes wide. When he spoke, his voice was soft, transforming himself from the grown goddamn man he claimed to be, into the small child they were constantly teasing him of being, "Why?" Mike asked.

"Why do you think?" she said, planting a hand on her hip.

Mike cleared his throat, "Too much paperwork to fire me?" he joked weakly.

"I thought you were supposed to be a genius," she said exasperatedly, reaching out to smack him in the side of his head. His blue eyes widened in shock, "What the hell was that for?"

"Maybe if you pulled your head out of your ass every once and a while…" Donna said angrily before Mike cut her off, "Hey!" She silenced him with a single look and continued as if he hadn't spoken, her voice growing in volume and conviction, "If you pulled your head our of your _ass_ every once and a while you would realize that when Harvey says he doesn't care about you, it's _bullshit_." Mike tilted his head, skepticism written all over his face. "I've seen Harvey give that speech to temp assistants, judges, clients, and other associates, but I have never seen him believe it less than when he gave it to you." A muscle twitched in Mike's jaw. "Think about it, Mike. Think about what he's done for you."

"He saved my life," Mike said under his breath. He exhaled, sinking back into the couch, the heavy weight of that fact settling on his shoulders and chest. It wasn't a new realization, Mike was reminded of it every time he walked into the building, every time he was handed another case file, every time Harvey gave him even a sideways glance.

Donna nodded, "Exactly." She sighed and sat down in the chair adjacent to him, her elbows on her lap, leaning in towards him. "Harvey and I," she paused. "We've known each other for a long time. He likes to think he can hide things from me, but he can't. Although it's actually kind of cute when he tries," she paused to laugh before sobering. "Just not when it hurts him, or anyone else I care about."

Mike raised his eyebrows at that, "So you care about me too now?"

"Don't push it, kid," Donna said with a smirk that looked eerily like Harvey's. "What I'm saying is that no matter what Harvey says, _he_ does care about you - as more than just his associate, more than just a friend. He may not say it, he may not even admit it – either to himself or anyone else – but he does. I know it, he knows it, and now, so do you. What're you going to do about it?"

Mike looked up from his clasped hands, raising his eyes back to Donna and stumbling over his words, "I just... what am I supposed to say to her?"

Donna tilted her head, her face softening as she moved to sit on the arm chair closer to Mike.

"Rachel and I are finally in the right place. I told her that I wanted this, and now..." he trailed off and shook his head. "I'm gonna look like such an asshole."

"Just do it gently," Donna said. "Firmly, but..." she sighed. "Gently."

"And that's gonna help?" Mike asked, desperation creeping into his voice.

"No," Donna said, shaking her head. "Probably not."

"How're we even supposed to work together after that? Huh?" he asked, his eyes pleading for her to give him the answers.

"It's possible," Donna said finally.

Mike's gaze flickered up at her, realization dawning on him, "It is?"

She nodded, "It is."

"How'd you get from here to..."

"The feelings just go away. Eventually," she amended with a small smile. She took a breath, "I've been on the other side of this speech before, Mike. It's not easy, but it's possible to move on from here. I promise."

"You and Harvey…"

"It wasn't exactly my shining moment, but I don't regret it. I fell for him – it's hard not to when you work as closely as we do," she stopped and smiled at Mike pointedly. "But he didn't fall back. I accepted it, and moved on. Rachel will too."

"Have you considered the possibility that you're wrong about this? I can't… I can't just blow off someone I really do care about based on your hunch."

"My hunch?" Donna said, leaning backwards, genuinely insulted. "This isn't a hunch, Mike. I know Harvey, probably better than anyone else, and I know what it looks like when he falls in love." Mike's head snapped up, his eyes wide. "Yes, I said love," Donna repeated, rolling her eyes. "But, unfortunately for both of us, he has the emotional span of a teaspoon, so you're going to have to… give him a shove."

"When Harvey gets shoved, he shoves back," Mike pointed out petulantly.

Donna nodded, "He does. Which is why you can't back down. He wants this, you want this, and I am tired of the two of you circling each other but refusing make a move." She took a beat and leveled him with a stare, "So what're you going to do about it?"

Mike stared at the closed door in front of his face and took a deep, shaky breath. His head was still reeling from his conversation with Donna, and he knew that he was quite possibly making a monumental mistake. Then again, he seemed to be doing all sorts of stupid things lately, might as well just add this to the list. He reached out and slammed his open palm onto the wood. He could hear a rustling behind the door, but there was no answer. He slammed his hand into it again and again until finally a voice called out.

"Unless you're here to tell me that you're dying," there was a pause. "Or you finally found the Arc of the Covenant… go home."

"Harvey," Mike called. "Open the door." He stepped back and waited for the door to swing open. Harvey yanked it open violently, as though he was hoping Mike had been leaning against it and would fall through. He stared at him, a vaguely irritated expression on his face as Mike struggled to keep his own expression neutral. He could feel that his mouth had suddenly dried up, his palms had become clammy, and his heart was beating faster.

"Good, you're alive," Harvey said dryly. "Go home, rookie," he moved to close the door.

"No," Mike said, reaching out to block the door with his hand. He brushed past Harvey without glancing back to see his dark eyes, which he instinctively knew would be narrowed, glaring at him indignantly. Mike clenched his jaw and steeled himself before turning back to face his boss. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, throwing up a quick 'thank you' that his voice was steady despite the fact that the rest of him was literally shaking.

"Tell you what?"

"Donna told me what you did to save my job. Why?"

Harvey's eyes flickered to Mike's face, but he remained silent, refusing to acknowledge the question, refusing to give a straight answer, refusing to show Mike yet another crack in his tough exterior.

"I told you I was doing my job," Harvey said with a roll of his eyes. "Are you really going to bitch about how I did it?"

"Is risking your career part of your job?" Mike asked. He was taking a page out of Harvey's book and pressing till it hurt; he wasn't going to drop this, he wasn't going to let Harvey roll his eyes and dismiss him or make him feel stupid for asking. He needed to know, and he wasn't leaving until Harvey gave him an answer.

Harvey rolled his eyes again, moving further into the condo and picking up the bottle of beer on his kitchen island. "Let it go, Mike. What are you always saying? Don't look a gift horse in the mouth? Take your own advice, kid." He took a long drink of his beer and leaned back against the counter, his eyes on Mike.

The younger man shook his head, "No, you don't get to do that. We're not at the office and right now, you're not my boss. Answer the question."

Harvey's eyes never left Mike's face as he took another long drink from the beer bottle in his hands. He leaned back against the island and crossed his arms over his chest. "No, risking my career is not part of my job." A smirk ghosted over his face, but Mike ignored it and pressed on, "Then why did you do it?" He watched his boss's face carefully, registering everything, from Harvey sucking his bottom lip between his teeth and chewing on it, to the way he tore his gaze away from Mike, his eyes darkening even further.

"I gave you my word that you weren't getting fired on my watch," he said finally. "And I keep my promises."

"And that's it? That's the only reason?"

"What other reason would there be?"

Mike raked both his hands through his short blonde hair and laughed dryly. "Looks like Donna's not right about everything," he muttered, turning away from Harvey to face the door. Never before had he ever felt the urge to run from Harvey's presence, but suddenly, all he wanted was to put as much space between them as possible. Donna had clearly been completely off base about this.

"What're you talking about?" Harvey asked, his dark eyes narrowing. Mike shook his head, "Absolutely nothing." He stepped towards the door, stopping dead in his tracks as Harvey spoke again, "What are you talking about, Mike?" he repeated. Mike spun around, his mind completely blank – a first for him – as he surged forward, hands moving up to either side of Harvey's face, his lips capturing his boss's. Harvey froze, every muscle locking up under Mike's touch. Mike pressed a kiss to his lips, hard and rough and unrelenting, his fingers threading up into his perfectly sculpted hair. Finally, he felt Harvey's lips move under his, his hands moving to grip Mike's waist. Mike sighed into his mouth. Then, just as quickly as it had started, it was finished with Mike being pushed by two solid hands, ending up three feet away, breathing heavily.

"What the hell was that?" Harvey said breathlessly. Mike chewed down on his lip - he didn't sound angry, he sounded surprised. He could work with surprised. "That was a kiss," Mike said. Harvey ran his hand over his face and turned away from him, breathing like he had just run a marathon. "Wait a minute," Harvey said suddenly, spinning on his heel to face Mike. "When you said 'Donna's not right about everything', you meant… she thought…" he trailed off. Mike smirked; this was the first time since he'd met Harvey that he'd seen him at a loss for words.

"Yeah," Mike said. "She thought." He took a step closer to him, "Was she wrong?"

"Yes," Harvey said quickly, clipping the word off in his haste to get it out. He looked up and over Mike's head as he took another step towards him. Harvey moved backwards, trying to keep a healthy distance, his back pressed up against the kitchen island. Mike raised an eyebrow and took another step closer, stopping with just inches between them. Harvey raised his gaze to Mike's, and Mike could practically see his resolve crumbling. "No," he admitted, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"No, what?" Mike asked, giving him a small smile. He knew he was pushing his luck but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"She wasn't wrong," Harvey breathed, his eyes flickering to Mike's lips. Mike barely had time to inhale before Harvey was pressed against him, one hand on the nape of his neck, the other circled around his wrist. His lips moved against Mike's, easing them open. This was completely different from the first kiss - it wasn't hasty or aggressive, it was slow simmering and Mike could feel it everywhere. He smiled against Harvey's mouth as a thought entered his mind.

Harvey pulled back slightly and turned his head, murmuring against Mike's throat, "What?"

"I should've known," Mike mused. Then, to answer Harvey's unspoken question, "Donna's never wrong."

Harvey laughed, the sound reverberating against Mike's skin before he pulled him in for another kiss. The last thought Mike had, in that moment, was of all the pieces of himself Harvey had given him over the months. Harvey had slowly but surely let him into his life, and here he was now, giving him his heart with every kiss, every touch, every time he pulled him closer – the final, missing piece.

He finally had the whole.


End file.
